


superdad

by Ryah_Ignis



Series: Season 12 Codas [18]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Babies, M/M, Well - Freeform, just one baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 07:19:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10714818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryah_Ignis/pseuds/Ryah_Ignis
Summary: "When it’s all said and done, Cas has a baby in his arms.Nephilim, Dean reminds himself, but it’s difficult to think about the kid like that when he’d seen his very human mother bleed out, pleading with them to take care of him.  Dean’s seen a whole lot of awful in his time, but that ranked pretty high on the list.She hadn’t even gotten a chance to name him.The motel room somehow seems even more suffocating now than it had a few minutes ago.  Cas sits perched on the end of the bed where Kelly—yeah.  And he has a baby in his arms.  What are they supposed to do?"





	superdad

When it’s all said and done, Cas has a baby in his arms.

Nephilim, Dean reminds himself, but it’s difficult to think about the kid like that when he’d seen his very human mother bleed out, pleading with them to take care of him.  Dean’s seen a whole lot of awful in his time, but that ranked pretty high on the list.

She hadn’t even gotten a chance to name him.

The motel room somehow seems even more suffocating now than it had a few minutes ago.  Cas sits perched on the end of the bed where Kelly—yeah.  And he has a baby in his arms.  What are they supposed to do?

Dean breathes out through his nose, even the small puff of air loud in the otherwise dead silent room.  Sam leans over and shuts Kelly’s eyes, mouth thinned into a tight line.  There’s nothing left to do here.  So, without ever saying a word, the three of them—well, four of them—make their way out to the Impala.

The drive home isn’t even broken by driving music.  Dean can’t find it in himself to reach out and push a cassette into the player.  Outside, rain starts pelting the window.  In the backseat, Cas makes a soft hushing noise whenever the kid starts to get fussy.

Dean finds himself checking the rearview mirror to make sure they’re both all right more times than strictly necessary,

“We’re gonna need some stuff,” Sam says, forever practical.

It breaks the stunned silence they’ve fallen into.  Dean pulls over at the next exit and they find a Walmart.  Cas stays in the backseat while Sam and Dean venture inside.  Dean’s suddenly reminded of shopping for the shifter baby what feels like a lifetime ago and nearly bursts out laughing at how dissimilar the situations are.

“What are we going to do?” Sam asks quietly as they peruse the formula aisle. “I mean—that kid is—”

“I know.” Dean surprises even himself with the snappish tone. “We’re not gonna _do_ anything.  It’s a baby, Sam.”

Sam shakes his head. “I wasn’t suggesting we _hurt_ him, Dean.  For God’s sake.  If there’s anybody on the planet that can relate to him, it’s me.”

Fair enough.  They check out without discussing it any more.  When they get back to the car, the kid has fallen asleep in Cas’s arms.  He’s gently rocking him back and forth, humming something under his breath that Dean can’t quite distinguish.

“Diapers,” Dean says, tossing a pack at him.

To his surprise, Cas puts it on the kid like a pro

“Muscle memory,” he says in response to the unasked question. “Jimmy’s hands remember.”

They make it back to the bunker just as dawn begins to break over the horizon.  Sam lugs the pack n’ play inside as Dean gathers the rest into his arms.  Babies are expensive.  And take up a lot of space.

“I can take him for a bit,” Dean tells Cas once they’re down in the war room, unpacking everything.

“It’s fine.”

He looks down at the kid with tenderness that silences Dean’s argument before it even really got going.

By the time they get everything squared away—the formula in the kitchen, the diapers in one of the laundry rooms, the clothes and the pack ‘n play In Cas’s room, which Dean’s mentally dubbed ‘home base’—it’s about eight o’clock.  Despite the hour, Sam heads off to get a few hours of sleep.  Dean can’t blame him.  He knows his brother was hoping hard for Kelly to pull through, hoping hard that another one of Lucifer’s victims would make it out okay.

“You should go put him down,” Dean suggests.  “Just while we figure this out.”

Cas fixes him with an icy stare. “What is there to figure out?”

Dean raises his hands defensively. “Well, for starters, there’s that whole thing about how Nephilim are incredibly dangerous?  Right?” At the look Cas gives him, he tries again. “Or we could just start with figuring out something to call him that isn’t ‘kid.’”

Cas doesn’t even hesitate. “Aaron.  I want to call him Aaron.”

Dean knows it’s best not to argue. “Aaron.  Good choice.”

* * *

Over the next few weeks, they fall into one of the weirdest routines that Dean has ever had in his life.  Cas sleeps in the room with the pack n’ play.  Sam lays down and listens to classical music with him, saying something about brain development.  Dean buys one of those slings and carries Aaron on his chest as he does chores around the bunker. 

Mary comes only once.  When she sees Aaron, something goes tight in her face.  She only stays a few minutes, but they extract a promise that she won’t tell the Men of Letters about him.

One night after they’ve had Aaron for little over a month, Dean wakes up at about two o’clock in the morning, unable to fall back asleep because his stomach won’t stop growling.  He shuffles out of bed, rubbing some of the sleep out of his eyes.  To his surprise, the light in the kitchen is already on.

“Cas?”

He finds Cas sitting at the bench by the table, bouncing Aaron up and down in his arms, singing _Night Moves_ under his breath.  It usually works, but Aaron keeps up a steady wail into Cas’s shoulder.

“He won’t stop,” Cas says, the worried crinkle in his forehead deepening. “I can’t get him to stop.”

Technically, Cas doesn’t need to sleep, but his eyes are red-rimmed.  Silently, Dean reaches out and takes Aaron from him.  At the transfer, Aaron breaks into a fresh wave of tears.  Dean remembers Sammy like this.  Without Mom to calm him down when he got particularly fussy (and with Dad in no mood to do anything to help), he’d done a lot of wailing.

“Hey, little man,” Dean says, swinging Aaron back and forth. “A little colic, huh?  That’s okay, buddy.  Why don’t we let Cas take a little break?”

He nodded at Cas to go catch some shuteye, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he watches as Dean quietly manages to calm Aaron down to an uneasy sleep against his shoulder.

“You don’t need to be the only one that looks after him, Cas.  Sam and I are here, too.”

Cas’s mouth twists into a wry half-smile. “I know.  It’s just—”

Dean knows that prompting him isn’t going to help.  Instead, he nods for Cas to follow and heads back to Cas’s room, which has become Aaron’s room, too.  He puts Aaron down in the pack n’ play while Cas seats himself on the end of the bed.

“He’s my only family.” At Dean’s questioning look, Cas amends the statement. “Of the angels, he’s the only one who doesn’t hate me for everything I’ve done.”

Dean lets out a quiet breath at that.  Instead of saying anything at all, he sits down next to Cas and puts a hand on his knee.  Cas leans into the touch.

“Cas, you know that you have us.” It’s harder to say, but it’s worth it to see the ghost of a smile on Cas’s face. “Me.  You have me.”

He glances over at Aaron, the gentle rise and fall of his chest as his still-tiny hands clutch at the bedding of the pack n’ play.

“Thank you.”

He places his hand over Cas’s. “You don’t have to be superdad.  After all, you’re a hell of a lot better than his actual dad.”

This earns him a rough chuckle. “Not much competition.”

“Yeah, well.” Dean smiles. “How about we do this in shifts from now on?”

And if he doesn’t leave Cas’s room?  Well. It’s easier to tag team Aaron time that way.

 


End file.
